


Not ours anymore

by pixiedurango



Series: The Arya Trevelyan Files [18]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Revelations, post-Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 07:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedurango/pseuds/pixiedurango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that revelations is over and judgment is done, two sad and bruised people need to find back together. Just taking him back into battle does not do the trick. There needs to be more. More time, more talk, more feel - and sometimes just more courage. To stop thinking and start doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not ours anymore

* * *

 

 

He is not thinking now. Reflexes of battle, survival instincts and the urge to protect what he loves most has taken over.

She takes a quick glance over her shoulder. Why does she do this? She knows that he is there to have her back. She never had to check on him. Blind trust. Why now?

Thoughts that he does not allow himself to think while he already sees coming the consequences of her moment of negligence. He feels it in his guts as hundreds of fights has taught him to know things in battle before they happen: She will be hit by this creature. He cries out his warning. Too late. He hears her shriek in pain and sees her going down, rolling over like a rag doll as if her limps don’t belong to her. Then she lies still for a moment until she lifts herself up standing unsure on her feet again and resumes the fight.

Thank the Maker it’s been only a Lesser Horror that was swiping her from her feet. But his heart still misses a beat seeing her going down, even it’s just for a few moments. Moments he uses to slay the creature. Usually he kills them with no emotional involvement as they are soulless abominations but this one hurt his love and so it gets personal. The seconds until he sees her moving again, being able to get up alone seem to stretch into eternity.

When the brawl is over she turns to him. Taking her helmet off. All the color has vanished from her face. She seems not to notice.

“That was tight…” she begins to speak but then all in a sudden he can only prevent her from hitting the ground again by jumping by, catching her fainting body. He holds her close. Already running towards her tent with her in his arms. Exchanging glances with the others. He will take care for her.

 

It’s not  _their_  tent anymore as it has been for so long. After what he has done, now they sleep apart, not knowing if he’ll be ever allowed to share the bed with her again. But that’s not important now. She needs rest. Someone to check if she’s injured. Right now he’s not her lover, waiting for her to forgive him, he’s her comrade, her brother in arms, her bodyguard. And since they have no healer in their little scouting party, he’s also  _that_  now until a real one will show up with the pioneers. But being a soldier for so long has given him at least basic skills of patching together wounds and choosing the right potion at the right time.

But now his hands tremble after he lays her down on her bedroll. He knows he must take away the armor. But he hesitates. Can he dare to do this? He must. Now. She must breathe. If he can’t touch her he has to call Varric or Bull for help. He don’t want to do this either unless absolutely necessary. They are their comrades, even friends but he wants to believe he is more. Her protector. Her lover. A lover who is not allowed to touch. He forces himself to stop thinking. This is no matter of lust. He must help her, she will understand even if she is still not ready to have his hands back on her..

Still he knows every buckle and clasp of her armor by heart and he frees her from it. Now that he has stopped thinking his hands work fast and steady and he already sees that her breath gets calmer. Deeper. He takes off her jacket and boots, too and covers her with some woolen blanket he finds somewhere at hand. Taking some cloth he picks up beside her water bowl and soaks it with water to put  something cool on her forehead. She has no open wounds, no bruises, no broken bones and her breath doesn’t make odd noises. She seems free of pain, probably she’ll be fine when she wakes up - the only thing he can do is hope and pray that she won’t stop breathing.

His watch begins. Silently resting beside her unconscious body.

Finally he realizes that she’s fallen into sleep, that’s a good sign. He allows himself to relax a bit. He could leave her in silence now to retreat into his own tent to find some sleep, too. 

But he cannot make himself go. Just one more time resting by her side. Watching over her. Looking at her face while she sleeps. He craves for all this, for  _her_ , so much but isn’t sure if he’ll be ever worthy as the man he is now.

Coming to rest now he allows himself to think again. Think of what he has lost, what he has given away by lying to her about who he was and what he has done in his past. Would she ever be able to forgive him entirely? He wants to touch her so desperately but he does not dare to even lift his hand to caress her cheek. Instead he only puts the cloth away from her forehead and when a single streak of black hair falls over her face he smiles and lifts it softly with one finger to strike it back behind her ear so it won’t tickle her.

He’s resting on his side, not wanting to fall asleep. Maybe trying to retreat before she is waking up so she would not feeling disturbed by his presence. He’s so unsure and he hates it. But he can understand that they both need time. Sometimes he feels like he is courting her again. No, not  _again_. For the first time properly as it was such a whirlwind and rush of feelings the first time. He tries to see it that way.

His body tricks him and when she slowly starts moving in her slumber making this little noises she usually makes when she wakes up he jumps from his own sleep. He holds his breath. Watching her in the twilight of dawn. She opens her eyes, maybe still feeling a bit dizzy from the blow but even in the poor light he can see them almost sparkle. He can’t speak. Must leave it to her to say the first words.

“Blackwall.” her voice is soft. Not angry or confused. Just calm and sweet. She does not ask anything. Just looks into his eyes and he feels as if he will drown in hers.

“Good morning, my lady.” he greets her and after a short moment. “Do you feel better?” That seems to remind her of what happened the day before. Carefully she touches her head all around and where the abomination had hit her, moves arms and legs and finally nods.

“I… I think so. Are  _you_  all right?”

This makes him smile. She still cares.

„Sure. I can take a blow.“

„Did you see what happened? I can’t remember properly anything before this thing tried to clean up the floor with me.” She turns to her side now so they lie face to face and she seems to feel comfortable waking up with him at her side.

A little sad smile makes his mustache twitch.

„You checked for your backup when there was no need. I remember times when you just knew I was there…“ he frowns, is aware how sad he sounds. „Tell me, my lady is this lost?“

She looks at him. Silent and for a long time. Then she puts her hand on his. He knows how strong she is, how hard her grip can be. But now her hand looks tiny. Pale and soft and tiny as she can’t cover his own that lies underneath. Tall and dark and rough from war and weather. He savors the touch but waits in a strange tension for her answer. And when she finally  speaks his heart wants to burst with joy: „Now that you are back, I will remember in no time.“

He nods with a smile. What else can he do?

„Aye, my lady. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be there.“

„I really missed that. Feeling safe with no doubt.“ She hesitates. Then resumes with a small and crackling voice. „I missed  _you_!“

He slowly turns around his hand on which hers still lies and he carefully closes his fingers around hers. He wants to tell her so many things but he fears he will not find the right words. So he only says:

„I’m here.“

She nods. The silence is not tensed or awkward anymore. After a while she asks:

„Can we stay a bit longer or are we already on the go?“ For the first time after so long he hears a smile in her words.

„You woke quite early so we are in no hurry.“ Their fingers caress each other, entwine like they have a life of their own. They don’t realize it since they look into each others eyes and this seems to be the world right now. He tries to think. About what would be appropriate and what she might expect but when finally the words rush out, thick with emotion and hoarse he knows he finally must stop analyzing and just do. 

„Let me hold you. Filly, I beg you.“

He already sees the tears glisten in her eyes when she slides into his arms but the real crying starts later. The silent sobs that will shake her whole body and leave a knot in his stomach because all he will be able to do is caressing her hair and make soothing noises that won’t help her stop crying the tears that she never wanted to show him.

But for now she mumbles against the crook of his neck:

„You don’t have to beg, love. Never.“

This needs no answer just his arms around her as if never letting go again.


End file.
